


maybe

by nocturnes



Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, RPF, Realization, Sexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 14:05:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1120747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nocturnes/pseuds/nocturnes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hoya has a realization, and Sungjong has been sure for a while now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	maybe

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted [here](http://infinitememe.livejournal.com/840.html?thread=301128#t301128) at infinitememe.

i.  
  
“So, motel scene tomorrow?” Eunji asks, sitting down across from Hoya at one of the break tables. She grins, popping the lid off her lunch container and tucking it underneath. “Steamy.”  
  
Hoya chokes on the tangerine he had stuffed whole into his mouth and eventually manages to swallow. “What?”  
  
Eunji rolls her eyes and aims to kick his shin underneath the table. “You read the script, didn’t you?”  
  
Tomorrow, Hoya will be stuck in a tiny motel room for hours with Inguk and the crew. When the director frees up some time later, he promised to go over the expressions that he wants Hoya to be able to capture. “Yeah. So?”  
  
Eunji picks up a piece of her tuna kimbap and waves it around in front of his face. “So? Haven’t you thought about it? Joonhee alone in this motel room with the guy he’s been in love with for years? I don’t know about you, but if it were me I wouldn’t be thinking about the entrance exam.”  
  
She winks, popping the kimbap into her mouth. “You’re blushing,” Eunji says, around the rice tucked into her cheek.  
  
“There’s a bed scene,” Hoya says. He pokes at an empty chocopie wrapper. “Well. Sort of.”  
  
“I know,” Eunji says. She smiles at him. “You have nothing to worry about, though. You’ve both been doing great.”  
  
“Thanks,” Hoya says. He pops another half of a tangerine into his mouth.  
  
“Plus,” Eunji says, “think about it. Lying in bed with the guy you’re in love with? I’d be thinking about his hands all over me.”  
  
Hoya takes a moment to swallow, trying to stare her down as she bites her lip so that she won’t laugh. He grins at her. “You’re the one who’s going to be kissing him.”  
  
“Did it already,” she says. “It wasn’t great.”  
  
Hoya plays with the serrated edge of another chocopie package. Joonhee would probably be thinking of Yoonjae all over him just like that. He’d want his hands on his hips and down his pants, even if that scared him. Hoya coughs, flushing.  
  
“Yah,” Eunji says, “What are you doing? You call that a lunch?”  
  
She gestures to the package and crinkles up her nose. Hoya bites back a smile. He unwraps the chocopie and breaks it in half. “Just take it,” he says.  
  
She grins as she does, and they both spend the next minute laughing through the marshmallow and chocolate they just stuffed in their mouths.  
  
\--  
  
In the motel, Hoya credits Eunji for the way he can’t stop thinking about how Inguk looks curled up on his side on the bed, his wet hair spread out across the pillow. He thinks of Joonhee and Yoonjae as he climbs into the bed next to him.  
  
When they play back the takes, the director says that the look on his face had been perfect. Hoya smiles gratefully and bows to the crew before he leaves. Inguk pulls him in for a hug before he heads home, and Hoya tries not to think about it.  
  
In the van, he rests his head against the window and wonders if being in character is enough to explain the way heat had curled in his stomach at the proximity of Inguk’s legs underneath the motel sheets. Somehow, he doesn’t think it accounts for how he couldn’t stop staring at Inguk’s mouth all night, or how he had been all too aware of the heat of his body as he had hugged him goodbye.  
  
Hoya bites his lip and closes his eyes, leaning his forehead against the glass of the van window. He thinks of his old girlfriend and how her lips would shine with her watermelon lip-gloss. It had always tasted like plastic, but underneath was better.  
  
Joonhee probably thinks a lot about kissing Yoonjae, Hoya thinks. In his head, the image morphs, and he can’t seem to push it back. Maybe he thinks about it too.  
  
\--  
  
Hoya climbs into the van next to Jungryoul, shaking his head as if it’s going to clear off the rain that has already soaked into his hair. Today ran late, and he’s tired. The entire cast had been on set today, and as much as he likes them all individually, having to keep up with that many people at once will always be exhausting.  
  
“You worked hard,” Jungryoul says, smiling over at him from the driver’s seat. “Get some sleep, you look like you need it.”  
  
Hoya nods weakly, leaning his head against the window and closing his eyes. He can’t stop thinking about the man who could have been in the front seat of that red sports car, or Joonhee standing there in the rain, waiting. Once the suit had been swapped for his hoodie and jeans, Hoya had looked almost the same, standing there and waiting for his ride home.  
  
With Joonhee, it had been obvious, but no one had seemed willing to say the word out loud. It’s been making his stomach twist, but he hasn’t been able to put a reason to why. The word feels heavy in his mouth, and he hasn’t even said it out loud. It’s not even about him, necessarily.  
  
Maybe character bleed is common. He drifts off, thinking of the way Inguk’s mouth had curved as he smiled goodbye.  
  
  
ii.  
  
“I asked her out,” Amber says, plopping herself down on the bench across from Sungjong. They’re squeezed in the far corner booth behind a large potted plant, but Sungjong likes the challenge of finding new meeting places each time. It feels like a strange kind of scavenger hunt. He takes the iced Americano from her right hand and sticks the straw in his mouth.  
  
“And?” he says.  
  
“I’m an idiot,” Amber says, “We went to the movies and I ended up taking the cab with her to make sure she got home okay. This morning she texted me to tell me how happy she is to have such a good friend.”  
  
Amber’s Korean is halting and still broken, but Sungjong’s gotten good at piecing together what she’s trying to say. It had been awkward between them at first, but he likes how well they manage, as long as he remembers to speak slowly.  
  
“It’s good that you tried,” Sungjong says. “Now you know.”  
  
“Yeah,” Amber says. She passes her chai latte back and forth in between her palms. “Gosh, she’s so wonderful, though. I need to… not think about that. How’s Mr. Magic Eyes, anyway?”  
  
Sungjong snorts. He still hasn’t told her his name, and she’s taken that as her cue to come up with a different ridiculous nickname each time they meet, to match what he has told her. Apparently, it’s helping a lot with building her vocabulary. “Gorgeous. Straight. Rumour mill has it that he’s on his second T-ara member.”  
  
“Jerk,” Amber says. She looks up at him and winces. “Sorry.”  
  
Sungjong shrugs. “Don’t be. He’s hot, but I can do better.”  
  
“Definitely,” Amber says. She takes a sip of her tea and makes a face.  
  
“Too Sweet?”  
  
“Sw…eet?”  
  
Sungjong shakes his head, reaching into his bag to pull out a pen and writing the word down for her on a napkin. He slides it across the table. “Look it up when you get home. I assume you know how to type Korean by now? You’re hopeless, I swear to God.”  
  
She grins at him and pockets it.  
  
\--  
  
The light flicks on, and Sungjong opens his eyes, trying to adjust to the brightness. He yanks out his earbuds and pushes himself up on his elbows, just in time to watch Hoya shuffling in. His hair for Joonhee’s role is plain, hanging limp into his eyes. Without makeup, he looks half dead, but none of them have looked too much better, lately.  
  
“Sorry,” Hoya says, “I didn’t realize you were in here.”  
  
“It’s okay,” Sungjong says. “Long day?”  
  
“Yeah,” Hoya says. He peels off his sweatpants and flops on his bed without bothering with anything else. Sungjong can’t see him anymore from his spot on the top bunk, and Hoya’s voice sounds odd directed up towards him through the wood. “Weird, I guess. Filmed in a motel with Inguk. Director liked it.”  
  
“That’s good,” Sungjong says. “How’s Inguk-hyung?”  
  
“Good,” Hoya says. There’s a long pause, and Sungjong here’s him shift around on the bed. “Yeah, he was… he made it easy. I’m going to sleep.”  
  
Sungjong doesn’t press when he hears Hoya’s headphones blast out distorted second-hand music through the rest of the room. He climbs down the ladder to turn off the light and says nothing when he sees Hoya curled onto his side, facing the wall. He’s pretty sure that he knows what this is about, but he knows better than to ask.  
  
  
iii.  
  
Sungjong turns and catches Hoya in the middle of trying to carefully avoid looking at Inguk on the screen. Hoya can feel the flush spreading across his cheeks, but he hopes that Sungjong will fail to acknowledge it.  
  
“He’s really attractive,” Sungjong says. “Don’t you think?”  
  
“You think so?” He tries to make it sound casual.  
  
Sungjong snorts, flicking his hair out of his eyes. “You know so. As if I can’t read you by now.”  
  
“He’s—” Hoya glances from Inguk on the screen back to Sungjong. He takes a deep breath. “He… yeah. His… hands are nice?”  
  
Sungjong nods, humming as he reaches over to pause the video. He smiles. “I like his mouth.”  
  
Hoya smiles back, raising an eyebrow. “You like the idea of his mouth around things.”  
  
“I think you’re projecting, hyung,” Sungjong says, grinning full out now. He leans back against the armrest of the couch and nudges Hoya’s calf with his socked foot. He pauses, biting down on his lip. “You haven’t seemed any different to me, just so you know. I can practically see you worrying about it.”  
  
Hoya swallows around the lump that has risen into his throat. “Yeah?”  
  
Sungjong shrugs. “If you don’t to me you won’t to anyone else. I can read you better.”  
  
They sit in silence for a while, just like that. Hoya plays with a loose thread coming off the sleeve of his sweatshirt. “Hey,” he says, “have you ever…?”  
  
“Yeah,” Sungjong says. He scratches behind his neck.  
  
“Who?”  
  
“If I tell you I’ll have to kill you.”  
  
“Oh come on,” Hoya says. “I told you.”  
  
Sungjong smiles. “Nope. You were obvious and I figured you out weeks ago. I probably figured you out before you did. Not my fault.”  
  
“Sungjongie.” He has the nerve to pout.  
  
Sungjong raises his hand up to his face, picking invisible dirt out from under his fingernails even though they’re already perfect. “Call me that again and I really will kill you.”  
  
“I’ll do your laundry for a week.”  
  
Sungjong grins. “Try again.”  
  
“Two weeks.”  
  
“Sunggyu,” Sungjong says. “Before debut. But he wasn’t the first.”  
  
Hoya scrunches up his face. “You’re not serious. _Sunggyu_?”  
  
“If you breathe even half a word to him I will not hesitate to kill you,” Sungjong says. He kicks at Hoya’s ribs. “But… yeah. I guess.”  
  
Hoya can’t help it; he bursts out laughing until he’s shaking with it, arms clutched around his stomach as he curls over himself.  
  
“Shut up!” Sungjong says. He sits up to slap Hoya’s shoulder. “I was young. And misguided.”  
  
“Sure,” Hoya says. “I bet you like his hands, huh?”  
  
“I’m starting to think you have a thing,” Sungjong says. “I just thought he’d be fun to boss around.” He leans back again, easy as anything, and arches an eyebrow.  
  
It takes a moment for Hoya to get it, but after that he’s flushing again. “Have you always known? Because I’ve never—I’m not—” He bites his tongue.  
  
“I don’t know,” Sungjong says. “I’ve liked girls before too.”  
  
“This is the first time I’ve—” Hoya stops, running a hand through his hair. Maybe it’s been there all along, hidden in all the little things. Off the top of his head, he knows that Dongwoo’s shoulders slope differently after a long practice than they do on a rare morning when they can get enough sleep. He knows that the hollows of Woohyun’s collarbones change sometimes in different sorts of light. They look the deepest in that second just before the spotlight cuts out, when everything is somehow brighter.  
  
In high school, his best friend used to stay late at the studio with him. When his arms had filled out with muscle before Hoya’s had, Hoya had written off the way he had stared as jealousy. He doesn’t know how to tell the difference between what was real before, and what he’s projecting looking back. Maybe none of these things mean anything. “Well. Maybe. I don’t know anymore.”  
  
“I don’t know either.” Sungjong says. He laughs, moving the back of his hand up to cover his mouth. “Sometimes I think I do, but I’m always wrong.” He pauses, lifting himself up on his elbows so he can look at Hoya’s face again. “You know I don’t care, right? Either way. I don’t think it’s wrong.”  
  
“I know,” Hoya says. “Me either.” He clears his throat, and they both stare at the screen and Inguk leans in to kiss Eunji in the stairwell. Hoya can only focus in the way Inguk’s mouth moves. He coughs and looks away, flushing. Distraction is clearly the best course of action.  
  
“Imagine it,” he says. “You’re practicing on a grand piano, and Sunggyu is there in the room with you—”  
  
“I regret telling you anything,” Sungjong says, rolling his eyes. “Laundry duty revoked, okay? Shut up before I hurt you.”  
  
“—and he’s spread out on the couch in the corner not wearing anything.”  
  
“That doesn’t even make sense,” Sungjong says. He covers his face, and Hoya grins when he notices the tips of his ears turning red.  
  
“And he says, ‘Are you going to make me wait?—‘”  
  
“Yah! Lee Howon, do you want to die?” Sungjong hits him in the face with a pillow before he can continue, and Hoya doesn’t fight back. He deserves it, anyway.  
  
---


End file.
